Liquid Equity

I’d like to begin this article with a simple statistic:

The average starting cost of a Rolex Submariner, in 2025, is around $10,000.

Now, what do most people think of when they think of the Rolex brand?

Perhaps “prestige,” “status,” “exclusivity,” or “dignity.”

Something like a Rolex watch is often coveted; its value precedes itself. It carries a certain weight, that within certain circles, is envied and respected. Its history and value are well-established.

Let’s say that you went out and got yourself a Rolex Sub, tomorrow.

How might people react?

Maybe you’d catch some longing gazes in the supermarket aisles or get a little extra attention from Susan at the water cooler. Your Great-Uncle Joe might comment on its value and how it really commands respect, over a heaping plate of casserole at Thanksgiving dinner.

“It’s a real head-turner, that one. People ought to know you mean business with that thing on.”

Now, let’s consider something else.

What if you spent $10,000 on training, health, and genuine personal development? How might those same people react?

Perhaps you’d be labeled a fool. Susan wouldn’t want to talk to you at the water cooler anymore. Great-Uncle Joe might tell you that you ought to be more like your cousin Stewart; Stewart just bought a C-Class Mercedes and was elected to his Homeowner’s Association.

There’s nothing wrong with a Rolex watch - I think they look great and I certainly wouldn’t mind having one. I’m proposing this scenario as a means of examining what is determined, as a cultural and social norm, to be valuable.

Physical fitness, personal agency, and pursuit of self-knowledge is pretty low on the totem pole for the typical modern man. Self-determination - for personal protection, health outcomes, and fundamental life decisions - is incessantly outsourced.

“Someone else will take care of that. I’ll just follow the leader.”

Be careful not to color outside the lines too much.

Everything is projected outward; the average American spends not a moment gazing into himself. He mistakes “individuality” with sheepish conformity, trying to “keep up with the Joneses” at an increasingly breakneck pace.

What’s behind all those masks? Who is the Wizard of Oz, under all of the shapeshifting and tap dancing? To most, this is a horrifying question.

I digress.

Let’s get back to the $10,000 scenario.

Hypothetically, you decide to allocate your money toward the latter option - training, health, and self-development, instead of the luxury timepiece.

You pay for high-quality foods, a nutritionist, a strength coach, a top-tier gym membership, instruction in martial arts, a month-long yoga retreat in Bali, and a laundry list of other potentially beneficial goods and services.

That gets your foot in the door; you have a great amount of raw materials to build something.

The actual value of those purchases, truly, is determined by your own effort, discipline, and commitment. “Buying” your way into physical capability and self-knowledge is akin to buying lumber and stone; intentional work must be performed, in this case by you, in order to create something truly valuable.

The real currency of the physical, visceral world is effort and intent.

You can pay the trainers. You can take the classes. You can buy the gear and the tools and the supplements. But, you can’t buy the gut-wrenching effort and consistent discipline that it takes to truly build something meaningful.

That comes from within; outsourcing doesn’t work in the long-term.

In this regard, genuine physical training, development of personal autonomy, and pursuit of higher degrees of self-knowledge is perhaps one of the most exclusive, isolating endeavors.

You can’t rationalize your way “in.”

You can’t buy your way “in.”

You can’t lie your way “in.”

Reality doesn’t care; nature is indifferent to fantasizing and delusion.

Physical shortcuts seldom exist for a reason; the gate is strait and narrow - almost as if it’s designed to be so. Effort is the currency and the ferryman doesn’t give discounts. Sink or swim.

The preoccupation with “shortcuts” to apparent physical capability is a natural side-effect of our frantic, “I-want-it-now” culture. The “shortcuts,” if they even work, always come with a cost - to the mind, the body, or both.

So, like buying that Rolex Sub: if you genuinely seek self-development, you need to pay the price. It’s not discounted - the cheap options are probably fake or stolen.

We’re dealing with liquid equity.

There’s a river of sweat between where you are and where you want to be.

Pay your share to the ferryman.